Stephen Bigelow, PhD - Education Leadership

  I had a plan. A simple, beautiful, foolproof plan. Enjoy some lively samba music at a local boteco along the Orla in Salvador. Great company. Cold drinks. Ocean breeze. Shade. Clouds. Vibes. And for once, I decided to outsmart Mother Nature. No sunscreen. Why? Because sunscreen can be slightly uncomfortable and I was convinced I had cracked the code: Breezy day? Check. Partly cloudy? Check. Shade the whole time? Check. Umbrella overhead? Check. I strolled confidently along the seaside like a seasoned tropical veteran. Hours passed. Laughter flowed. Music played. Life was good. Victory. What I didn’t account for was Brazil’s famous mormaço . It is a sneaky sun that burns you through the clouds. It looks harmless. It feels like a warm hug. And then it attacks. A few days later, it hurts to raise an eyebrow, and smiling is a gamble. So much for outsmarting Mother Nature. Here’s the irony: I’ve lived in Brazil long enough to watch locals apply sunscreen to already-tanned skin...

  There is something about returning to a place that reminds you who you are. After a few weeks back in cold, snowy Michigan, I found myself slipping effortlessly into old rhythms. The sounds, the pace, even the muscle memory of everyday life felt familiar. It was as if I had never left. Then I returned to Brazil. And once again, that same feeling hit me, as no time had passed at all. My first full day back was spent on the golf course in Praia do Forte. Blue skies, ocean air, and that unmistakable Brazilian sun. Magnificent, energizing, and apparently stronger than SPF 70. Despite my best efforts, I still managed to leave with a sunburn, a small reminder that nature always gets the last word. But more than the weather, it was the feeling that stood out. Brazil has a way of pulling you into the present. The warmth. The music. The constant sense of movement and celebration. Even ordinary days carry a sense of life and possibility. And while I can feel comfortable anywhere, that is s...

I normally write from my computer, with time and space to reflect. Today, I am writing from Madrid, in between destinations, with a suitcase not far away and a mind that feels unexpectedly full. The past week has been emotional in all the right ways. I have formed close friendships. I have met generous, thoughtful people. I celebrated the holiday season first in Brazil, then in Spain, and I will soon be arriving in yet another place to mark Christmas. There has been movement, transition, and more than a little vulnerability, but also a deep sense of gratitude. This time, I explored the Iberian Peninsula without losing my phone. That alone feels like progress. Like Lisbon before it, Madrid has exceeded my expectations. I did not come with a checklist. I walked, a lot. I wandered neighborhoods, lingered in cafés, and stood quietly in places with centuries of stories beneath my feet. I found myself in conversations with strangers that did not feel rushed or transactional. There is somethi...

  Last December, I wrote an article about the great superintendent dilemma: the Snow Day call. The stress. The pressure. The inevitable chorus of “You should have known!” from students, parents, and staff, regardless of what decision you make. Some days, superintendents cannot win, especially when the weather app is indecisive as well. This year is a little different. Right now, I am writing from Salvador, Brazil, where it is a sunny 86 degrees on a December afternoon. Palm trees sway, the ocean breeze rolls in, and the locals excitedly discuss the change of seasons. And they mean it. Here, the seasonal shift is a 10-degree swing: 75 degrees is considered “cold,” and 85 degrees is considered “hot.” Perspective is everything. There is no black ice on the roads or snow piling up by the hour. The only thing falling from the sky is sunshine, and maybe a ripe coconut if I do not pay attention. So while I do not expect any Snow Days this year, in fact, I am pretty sure the closest thing ...

  A little more than a year ago, I wrote about the strategic planning process in a Medium article titled  The Strategic Planning Process in School Leadership. At the time, I emphasised how a strategic plan, when done well, gives an organisation alignment, clarity, and shared purpose. But having just completed the strategic plan for the Pan American School of Bahia, I have been reminded that the value of strategic planning goes far beyond producing a polished document. When done properly, it guides decisions, aligns people, and keeps the community focused on what truly matters. In every district I have served, I have seen the difference between a plan created for compliance and a plan created with intention. Compliance plans are created because they are required. Intentional plans shape culture. They help a school stay steady during periods of change. And, perhaps most importantly, they give people a sense of ownership over the future they are building together. At the Pan Amer...

  I spent last week in Lisbon, one of those rare cities that feels both instantly comfortable and endlessly fascinating. My daughter joined me for a few days before we continued on to my place in Brazil. We wandered through the tiled neighborhoods, ate more pastries than I will publicly admit, and discovered that the best parts of Lisbon often appeared when we stopped trying to find them. The city itself was warm and welcoming, and every time I attempted to speak Portuguese, people would smile kindly and immediately switch to flawless English. At some point near the end of the trip, as we stepped out of an Uber, I noticed something felt off. It took about thirty seconds to understand what it was. My phone was not with me. I looked in every pocket, double checked my bag, looked again, and felt that slow sinking realization you get only when something important is suddenly gone. The Uber was already turning the corner and taking my phone, wherever it was wedged or tucked, with it. I ...